


my snowman and me

by text



Category: TRCNG (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sick Characters, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/text/pseuds/text
Summary: ive had this in my drafts since march and its not even snowing anymore: the fictitle is from snowman by siasadly there arent any snowmen in this fic at all, the song was just stuck in my head





	my snowman and me

**Author's Note:**

> ive had this in my drafts since march and its not even snowing anymore: the fic  
> title is from snowman by sia  
> sadly there arent any snowmen in this fic at all, the song was just stuck in my head

Being cooped up inside all day was not a good remedy for boredom. Not in Hayoung’s case, at least. He figured the other members were doing off just fine with their video games and other activities but something inside him desperately craved the feeling of inhaling crisp, fresh air.

The only problem was that it was absolutely frigid outside, so he was highly susceptible to catch a fever.

Hayoung stared hard out the window. His fingers idly tapped along the windowsill. His mouth hardened into a firm line.

It was spring. It shouldn’t be cold-- it should be warm and flowers should be blooming and Hayoung should be out, enjoying the weather. It was noon but the sky was clear and colorless, casting a feeling of despair.

He heard the shuffle of feet against the floor and turned to the source of the sound immediately. Hohyeon stood at the doorway with a blanket draped across his shoulders. The cloth was so large that it dragged across the carpet behind him.

“You look like a king,” Hayoung said.

“Really?” Hohyeon laughed, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself.

“Yeah,” he confirmed and eyed Hohyeon’s mussed up hair. “You just need a crown.”

“Well, I’m glad to have the honor,” he said, and took a seat right next to Hayoung with a soft breath.

“Now you look a bit more like a burrito,” Hayoung told him, tugging at the corner of Hohyeon’s blanket.

Hohyeon stifled a laugh which quickly developed into a cough by hiding his face in the cloth.

“You’re sick.”

Hohyeon shook his head quickly and spoke again, voice significantly raspier than before. “Only a little bit,” he told him. He glanced over with watery eyes.

Hayoung only grew more concerned as he pressed the back of his palm against Hohyeon’s forehead, the skin warm.

“Your hand is cold,” Hohyeon mumbled, scrunching his face up.

“You should be in bed,” Hayoung concluded, withdrawing his hand.

“I’ll be fine,” Hohyeon said dismissively. “Everyone’s inside, anyway, so what’s the point of acting like I’m contaminated or something?”

“The black death, of course. What if you spread that?”

Hohyeon nodded along. “Sure. Because I would have the plague of all things in the twenty-first century.”

“You never know,” Hayoung said.

“Whoa!” Hakmin’s yelling startled both of them out of the strange semi-staring contest they were about to have. “It’s snowing!”

Hayoung looked out the window again and, as it turned out, Hakmin was not wrong. The ground outside was already covered by a thin layer of snow. He wondered how he didn’t notice it earlier with the way he was intensely brooding about the weather for the past half hour.

Hayoung saw Hohyeon’s lips part and his eyes shining with wonder as he gazed through the glass. He then began to grasp the idea of why he hadn’t noticed the phenomenon first.

Hohyeon leaped out of his seat and was about to exit the room but froze when Hayoung asked him, “where are you going?”

He looked over his shoulder with a smile full of mischief. “Outside. Aren’t you coming?”

Of course Hayoung was. He stood up just as quickly and went in his room to change.

Once he took his first step outside, Hayoung was greeted with the firm impact of a snowball against his chest.

“Bullseye!” Siwoo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in victory.

Hyunwoo cheered beside him. He’s acting as the younger’s ammunition assistant as he shaped a snowball and passed it to Siwoo, whose eagle eyes eagerly searched for another innocent target.

Hayoung was also searching for someone as well, but someone specific. He frowned a little after being unable to find his intended person and walked down the front steps. He took a few steps down the block from their dorm and stopped when he heard a voice from the entrance of the building.

“Ah!” the voice exclaimed.

“ _Muahaha_!” Siwoo laughed. Hayoung was pretty sure that he would do wonders playing the villain in an action movie. “Another one!”

“Just wait ‘til I get you!”

“The puppy bites back! Hyunwoo, run before he takes you alive!”

Hayoung saw three figures gradually approach him. Dimly, he realized that they were running toward him, and would have maybe ran into him too until he stepped to the side. Siwoo and Kangmin passed by him and Hayoung felt a weight tugging at his coat.

“They are scary,” Hyunwoo said, cowering behind him.

“You’re older than both of them,” Hayoung told him, twisting his torso to look at him. “You should be scarier.”

“I am scary! Have you seen me?” Hyunwoo protested, baring his teeth. “I’m a carnivorous cold-blooded killer.”

“That sounds like something you’d tell yourself right before we have a performance,” Hayoung said amusedly, pinching his squishy cheek.

“Ow, stop it,” he whined, rubbing his sore face with a mitten-covered hand. “Oh, they’re coming back.”

“Get back here!” Kangmin shouted. He had a lump of snow in his arms that he was prepared to toss at Siwoo. He decided to pelt it from a distance.

Surprisingly, some of the projectiles managed to hit Hyunwoo’s neck right as Hayoung stepped to the side again. A chill shot up his spine as the snow-turned-slush crumbled against his skin.

“Cold!” Hyunwoo winced, brushing off the nape of his neck.

“Sorry!” Kangmin called out from afar.

Hayoung almost fell over from laughing so hard.

Somehow during the day, Hayoung found himself flat on the ground, staring up at the colorless sky as snow drizzled down on him.

“You look like you’re having fun,” a voice sounded beside him.

“I can’t feel my ears,” Hayoung said. “Or my arms. My limbs in general, actually.”

“Oh my God, get up,” Hohyeon grabbed Hayoung’s hand and tried pulling him up by his numb arm.

With luck on Hayoung’s side, his arm jolted and managed to bring down Hohyeon, who let out an alarmed shout as he landed face-first into the snow.

“What was that for?” Hohyeon lifted his head and pouted.

Hayoung had to look away. “Something methodical you did before.”

He rolled over, snow sticking to the front of his coat. “I don’t recall ever doing such a thing to my favorite hyung,” he said, and even had the audacity to smile at him, endearing bunny teeth and all. Hayoung would have screamed if he hadn’t noticed something else.

He sat up and stared at Hohyeon’s bare palms, pale from the freezing air. “Where are your gloves?”

“I left them inside,” Hohyeon shrugged.

“Take mine,” Hayoung said, taking his own off.

“But then you won’t have any,” he pointed out. “And then you’ll get sick.”

“You’re going to get sicker.” He insistently pushed the gloves into Hohyeon’s grasp. “Take them.”

“Both of you are going to become sick if you don’t come inside,” Taeseon’s saying from the front door of their dorm complex. He was wearing pajamas and circle-framed glasses and held a ceramic mug, body propped against the doorframe.

“Thanks for the advice, gramps,” Hayoung acknowledged, and they both scrambled to their feet and quickly headed inside.

As expected, Hayoung did get sick the next day. He woke up groggy with a burning face, a stuffy nose, and a craving for cuddles.

“I think I have a fever,” Hayoung said once he saw Taeseon in the kitchen.

“The medicine is in the assigned cupboard,” he said without looking up from his tablet.

Hayoung blinked dimly. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He filled up a glass of water at the sink, decided to take the entire package of cold medicine from the cupboard, and went wandering in the hallway.

Hohyeon seemed to be in quarantine as Hayoung discovered him the only one still in bed at eleven in the morning. He was completely wrapped up in bed sheets, concealed from the world.

Hayoung placed the glass of water and medicine on the nightstand.

“Burrito king,” he said and poked the Hohyeon-shaped lump through the blankets.

Hohyeon sniffled and shifted over. “If I’m a king, then you must be the jester,” he mumbled.

“I’m a knight, thank you very much.”

“Okay, Sir Choi Hayoung. What chivalrous thing have you done today?”

“I’ll be giving you some medicine. To cure you of the plague.”

Hohyeon sat up. “Why, thank you, good Sir.”

Hayoung popped out two tablets from the medicine packaging and gave one to Hohyeon.

Hohyeon’s appearance was at a similar state to Hayoung’s. His hair was a mess, several tufts sticking out in many different places; his eyelids were droopy and tired, as if they demanded improbable amounts of sleep; and his cheeks were tinged with a visible flush. Hayoung supposed if he brought his hand up to Hohyeon’s face and let it stay there it would feel very soft.

He belatedly realized that he was unknowingly examining the other until the sound of the cup being set down brought him out of his trance.

“I want to go back to sleep,” Hohyeon announced.

“It’s almost noon,” Hayoung said.

“Has that ever stopped anyone?”

 _‘Plenty of people_ ,’ Hayoung thought, but felt too sluggish to respond. Instead, when Hohyeon laid back on the bed, Hayoung decided to lay back as well, the blanket covering both of them.

“Okay?” he asked, and Hohyeon smiled at him, bunny teeth and all.

“Everything’s okay when I’m with my favorite hyung,” Hohyeon said softly and closed his eyes.

Hayoung was actually screaming on the inside this time, but it was a good kind of screaming. A scream to last for eternity; a scream to make his heart beat fast and his blood run cold. Maybe his illness was starting to get to him. Or maybe he was undergoing cardiac arrest, right there in Hohyeon’s bed.

Either way, he was happy. He would need to better cherish the colder days in the future.


End file.
